


let the stars watch, let them stare

by jadeandquartz



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: (can you tell I love them both with all my heart?), (if you're not a fan of needles please do be aware of their brief presence in this fic), Blood and Gore, Campaign 05: A Crown of Candy, D20 Treat, Jet Rocks has a lot of feelings and is not thrilled to be dead, Needles, and I firmly believe she would have quickly grown attached to Saccharina for that reason, she is also smart and brave and knows how to recognize a fellow heroic soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeandquartz/pseuds/jadeandquartz
Summary: “I would have freed you soon enough,” the so-called Sovereign Ruler of Candia says cheerfully, smiling at the House of Rocks as they kneel on the ground before her.Oh, so she's freeing and imprisoning people already. What a perfect leader,Jet thinks, leaning against the cavern wall, her arms crossed as she stares down the sorceress thunderously.And I was just starting to enjoy the idea of ruling Candia, too.Not for the first time today, she is more than a little bit pissed that she's no longer alive to say these things out loud.***(Or: Jet Rocks is stitched to the shadow of a different sister.)
Relationships: Jet Rocks & Ruby Rocks, Jet Rocks & Saccharina Frostwhip
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64
Collections: Dimension 20 Fic Exchange 2020





	let the stars watch, let them stare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littleboxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/gifts).



> written for the prompt "something from jet's perspective after she dies/as she's protecting ruby? maybe her reactions to saccharina as she watches from ruby's shadow," because I immediately had...thoughts.
> 
> title from "eavesdrop" by the civil wars, which, hey, if you listen to it in the context of jet speaking to ruby? a fast-track route to tears, as I found out while writing this.

“I would have freed you soon enough,” the so-called Sovereign Ruler of Candia says cheerfully, smiling at the House of Rocks as they kneel on the ground before her. 

_Oh, so she's freeing and imprisoning people already. What a perfect leader,_ Jet thinks, leaning against the cavern wall, her arms crossed as she stares down the sorceress thunderously. _And I was just starting to enjoy the idea of ruling Candia, too._

Not for the first time today, she is more than a little bit pissed that she's no longer alive to say these things out loud. 

In fairness to this _Saccharina Frostwhip_ \- whoever she is - her timing was almost perfect. Had she come along with her claim to the throne at any time in the past eighteen-odd years, Jet would have gladly thrust the title into her hand and taken off into Dulcington with Ruby before Pops even had time to acknowledge the drastic shift in political power. But Jet has _plans_ now - a kindergarten, a resurgence of magic. A lot of middle fingers to show to Belizabeth Brassica and the rest of the fucking _horrible_ Bulbian clergy. 

Of course, Jet has also recently been murdered. 

So those plans have become a little harder to enact. 

“We’re not _free_ ,” Ruby says sourly from the ground, her manacles a puddle of iron around her feet, unlocked almost as soon as they were first clasped. Jet bites her lip, thoughts of leadership immediately fleeing from her brain at the expression on her sister’s face. Yak is perched on her shoulder, nuzzling his feathery head against hers in a sweet attempt at reassurance, but Ruby’s eyes have dark circles beneath them, and Jet knows her sister hasn’t been sleeping enough. Jet was always the one afraid of the dark, before. She would creep into Ruby's bed for comfort in the middle of the night, and her sister's arms would wrap around her, and all the terrors of the world would be safely kept away.

Now, Ruby is the one who stays up every night, her eyes unable to close as she stares blankly - _brokenly_ \- at the shadows on the ceiling above her. But Jet doesn’t think Ruby is afraid of the dark. Actually, she’s starting to worry that Ruby isn’t afraid of _anything_ anymore, including death. 

And as much as she would give anything to hug her twin just one more time, Ruby dying just _isn’t_ an acceptable way to accomplish that. 

“Well. I mean, no one really _is_ , in a monarchy, if you think about it.”

Saccharina Frostwhip’s eyes glitter in the light of the roaring fires that light the hall. She tosses her head, and lightning crackles through the neapolitan-dyed strands of her hair. Jet wonders what this woman is like in battle. There are swords at her side, true, but there's also a beautiful carved staff in her hands (similar to Lapin's, may he rest in peace). And she may be claiming the Candian throne, but she did also get announced as _Enemy of the Faith,_ something Jet is _definitely_ more on board with, so maybe she's a heretic too.   
  
Ruby's jaw works as she stares resolutely at the floor. Jet longs to wrap her arms around her, whisper to her in twinspeak. But she's been trying for days, now, linking their pinkies at every opportunity she gets, and no matter how hard she tries, Ruby never seems to see her there. 

A moment later, Caramelinda, her posture perfect as ever but her voice shaking at the edges, questions the claim to the throne. The name _Ghee_ fills the frosty air of the mountains - and damn it, Jet _really_ should have paid more attention when Lapin tried to teach her about how succession works, because it’s taking a minute for the pieces to properly click together. Pops is clearly swallowing down so many emotions that they’re liable to become a choking hazard. And Ruby is staring up at Saccharina, a terrible, furious understanding in her eyes - 

\- oh. _Oh_. Ghee. As in, _Catherine_ Ghee. 

This woman isn’t just a warrior, she’s Pops’ _daughter_. 

She’s Jet’s _sister_. 

Something hard and hateful churns in Jet's stomach before she can stop it - because, of course, that makes her Ruby's sister too. Ruby's _older_ sister. Ruby's _warrior_ sister. Ruby's future _sovereign_ sister.

This woman has waltzed into their lives with every intent of stepping into Jet's shoes and taking the throne and taking the other half of her heart, too. A queen and a sister regained in one fell swoop. What could possibly be more convenient than that?

_I guess I was a little more replaceable than I thought._

It's an unkind thought, she knows, a bitter one - but, well, Jet Rocks has recently been murdered. 

Surely, she's earned a little bitterness. 

***

Mere seconds after the party teleports into Buzzybrook ( _a_ _nd isn’t that something,_ Jet wants to say to Ruby, _Mom could do cool wizardry all these years, and we never knew till now!)_ the sounds of screaming split the air outside the sugar-hut. Immediately, Liam and Ruby are gone, flickering into the night like twin wisps of smoke. Jet wastes a precious second staring at her mother, at the way her hands are glowing gold, barely visible through the opaque wall of ice - and when she finally breaks away, runs out the door, glances futilely around for their faces, she can't see a hint of peppermint or licorice anywhere. Not that she can affect anything that's they're doing, of course, but it makes her feel better to be near her sister anyway. 

_Well, they have to come back here to teleport away,_ she thinks, and is just about to head back into the hut, to stand by Caramelinda as some sort of useless, unacknowledged moral support, when a thunderous _boom_ causes the very earth to shudder in fear. 

Theo and Pops, weapon drawn, sprint into the fray towards the gallows. A building on the west side of town has burst into flames, Jet sees now, its roof caught up in a massive fireball. Troops are scrambling to arm themselves, and the world is chaos, terrifying shadows looming on every side and Jet can't find her sister, she _can't find Ruby_ , and she's _helpless_. No, _worse_ than helpless. _Useless_ , because she can see her family in danger and she can't fight to protect them - 

In the sugar-hut behind Jet, there is a _thwump_ of displaced air.

Jet scrambles to her feet, whirling around, but the sound isn't Ruby, vaulting in through the ceiling. Instead, two people appear, falling to the floor behind Caramelinda's back - Saccharina, holding Joren Jawbreaker's unconscious body in her arms. Her staff is strapped to her back, its scooped end still glowing frosty blue. Wind whips around her, a miniature hurricane made of scraps of sugar-stone and shards of ice, sharp enough to slice to ribbons anyone who dares approach. 

Jet can't be hurt anymore, though, not physically, and the phantom stab wound on her back is still tingling, betrayal incarnate, and she starts to run towards the hut, fear clogging up her lungs. She doesn't have her weapon, and she's not even _corporeal_ \- but by the Hungry One itself, if Saccharina hurts her uncle Jawbreaker in _any way -_

Alone in the darkness of the hut, out of view of all of the House of Rocks, Saccharina's hands start to glow a chilly white.

Jet skids to a stop as she watches the Witch-Queen carefully cup the back of Joren's head with one hand and press two fingers to his throat with the other. Sparks of magic, each shaped differently, (almost like _snowflakes?)_ sink into the rough red wounds around his neck from the burn of the rope. 

A moment later, Joren jerks, coughs up blood, and starts to breathe again, his chest rising and falling heartily.   
  
The world is still chaos; Jet can hear the distant _thwip_ of Liam's crossbow, the battle cry of Pops as he starts to rage, the clang of someone's blade striking Theo's armor. But for a moment, all she can focus on is the sheer power flowing through Saccharina's fingertips, and the quiet, cautious look of _joy_ on the Witch-Queen's face. 

_She could have just let him die._

And no one but Jet would have ever known the truth. 

Saccharina sets Joren's body down by the ice wall behind which Caramelinda's magic is still glowing golden bright. She wipes a tear from her eye, biting her lip nervously in a way that is _so_ similar to Pops when something is stressing him out, and dusts the last few sparks of snow off her hands. Then, as Jet watches, the miniature hurricane starts to crackle and sizzle with lines of lightning, gathering itself around the sorceress.

"Stay safe, Uncle Joren. I'll be back soon," Saccharina whispers to the body on the ground. "You're forgiven, for trying to challenge me. We'll work out our rival claims another day."

A little flame of guilt starts to burn in Jet's stomach, igniting her bitterness, turning it to ash. 

The screams outside are growing louder, mixing with the muted clangs of weapons and the thuds of giant dough-filled footsteps off in the distance. Cautiously, Jet follows her half-sister out into the night. Saccharina wades into the midst of the Ceresian troops, and as blades begin to slice through her chocolate epaulettes, her eyes glow white, and a line of lightning thirty feet long incinerates half the breadsticks in an instant.

Despite herself, Jet Rocks can't help but grin. 

_That's one hell of a killing blow._

So. The future Queen of Candia can kick some _serious_ ass, it seems. And also, apparently, bring people back from the brink of death. 

Jet squinches up her face, presses her fingers to her temple, and sends some psychic approval Saccharina's way. 

_I_ _t's still kind of weird to think of you as my sister,_ she says to her with a grimace, though she's sure Saccharina isn't psychic, and therefore, probably won't be able to hear her. 

_But you're not a half-bad fighter, when push comes to shove._

***

The world is a shadowy, sugary haze. 

No, that's not quite right. Jet can't _remember_. She's been other places before this, she knows that. Buzzybrook - and before Buzzybrook, it was the marauder's den, deep in the mountains - and then before that, Castle Candy, and Dulcington, and an attic with sharp smiles and sharp blades - 

_I died,_ she thinks distantly.

But the thought is numb, number than it should be. All the fury and frustration and pain of that knowledge is being tamped down under a sweet, sugary fog. 

Jet floats, and floats, and tries not to forget about the attic entirely. It feels important, somehow, that she hang onto that detail. That she doesn't let it slip away.

Finally, she reaches back in her mind, grasping vainly for details, like trying to catch motes of dust in the air -

\- and something pierces her chest, straight and slick, scrapes between her ribs and punctures her heart with an ugly _pop_. Blood is soaking through her lungs from the outside, filling them up - she is hyperventilating, gasping, curling in on herself, clutching her head, whimpering helplessly for it to _stop._

Her vision is flickering, pain threatening to take her to pieces entirely. But she can see the object in her chest continuing to move - splitting her sternum in half, exploding out from inside her. A needle. A _needle_. Long and silvery and hundreds of times larger than a needle should be, blood and flesh slipping off its shining metal length, refusing to stain it. A thread follows it out, a thin, gossamer thread that is now running directly through Jet's heart. 

The needle and thread vanish upwards, flying into the void. Jet is left struggling, gasping, glancing around, pain still searing through her at every motion. 

_Ruby._ Ruby. She has to get to Ruby. She doesn't know if she can help her. But Ruby must be in danger - something must be trying to hurt her, and fuck it, even if it requires fighting the whole afterlife as a consequence, Jet will raise _hell_ before she lets someone lay a finger on her baby sister. 

A voice echoes from the void below her. 

_I can see you now, little one!_ _And I can feel you too!_

The words rattle her teeth, reverberate her bones - and yet, somehow, Jet knows the voice is not speaking to her.

 _We're going to kill you, Ancient One,_ a second voice responds, somewhere high above Jet. _And, with all due respect, I will die before I let you keep magic from Candia for one more day._

For a moment, it sounds the slightest bit like Pops, but the words are liquid frosting, high-strung and sweet.

Saccharina Frostwhip. 

The thread through Jet’s chest tightens, twists, flares. She bites back a sob as fire races down it, coming from that strange cavernous space above. Trying to pass through her, to ignite that cold, sweet presence below.   
_  
Careful, sorceress. I_ _f you kill me, you kill yourself, too._ _If I die, you die as well._  
  
The Sugar Plum Fairy. Memories bubble up like shards of broken glass - Lapin, healing Ruby's throat with swirls of purple-plum power. Sparkling stones, in a forgotten glade outside the castle. Ruby and Saccharina, standing around a war council table with the rest of Jet's family. Planning to come here. Planning to - planning to - 

She must be in the midst of a battle. Or - the _living_ people must be, at least. And she's a conduit. Jet's not part of this conversation, but she's allowing it to happen. 

_Then I won't attack you,_ Saccharina replies. Jet can hear pain and pride and purpose in her voice. Saccharina always sounds so _tired_ , every cheerful word struggling to make it past the sorrow burned deep into her soul. _I will rebuff you, and I will counterspell you, and I will steal all the things you hoard as your own._

 _You are not a thief,_ the Sugar Plum Fairy laughs. _You are a wielder of storms and wind. But there is no wind here, witch-queen, and your storms have all gone silent._

 _Then I will learn from my little sister,_ Saccharina says. _Ruby is stealthy and swift of hand, and I will learn from her._

Jet feels Saccharina heal Cumulous, the magic making the thread through her chest glow white and warm. She feels Pops and Theo throwing weapons, Liam sending shot after shot at the fae. And she looks up - and far above her in the endless void of sugary shadow, Ruby is soaring through the air on the end of a rope.

 _Your sister does not love you,_ the fairy says. 

_No, but she could._ Saccharina draws in a shaky breath. _And I pray that she will._

A counterspell makes the whole cavern thrum with magic. The Sugar Plum Fairy's presence grows colder, crueler, angrier. Raw and shrieking. 

_You are an enemy of the Bulb, little one, and an enemy of the Sweetening Path. You have always been so proud to bear these titles. What could possibly remain for you to pray to?_

Up above, Ruby's flight is filled with shards of ice and freezing blasts, as the Sugar Plum Fairy scores scars deep into her flesh. Jet watches as her twin sister, bloody and battered, makes it to the end nonetheless, and swings up to land, catlike, on an ice cream platform. The Twizzling Blade is strapped diagonally across her back, flashing dimly in the fog. 

_I pray to the good inherent in people,_ Saccharina whispers. _And I trust that someone, somewhere, is able to hear me._

The cavern thrums again.

Jet realizes dimly that her own tears are freezing on her cheeks, catching in her eyelashes.

She can't protect Ruby. She doesn't have the faintest idea how to get to her or help her. 

But she _is_ a little bit psychic. And she has two living sisters to save. 

The thread through her chest starts to glow with fire again. Saccharina is melting something; chocolate is dripping down the sugar-plum stones somewhere far above. A faint scent of cinnamon is starting to singe the air. 

Jet inhales, the breath rattling in her bloody lungs, and thinks about the cathedral, about the rope that she threw down to Pops from the balcony to get him to safety. 

She wraps her hands around the thread in her chest and _pulls_. 

The world goes white, then black. Something severs and snaps, the raw aching mind of the Sugar Plum Fairy fading into the distance as Jet tumbles through the void - 

\- and she is kneeling on a cold blue surface, icicles springing up around her on all sides. Saccharina crouches on the other side of the egg, covered in molten chocolate, blood and tears streaking her cheeks. Behind her, the icicles open out onto a cavernous room, ice cream platforms twirling deftly around a many-faced monster far in the distance. 

Something squirms in Jet's palms, where the thread had been only a moment before. She glances down to find a small, red, scaly creature curled contentedly within her hands. Its eyes are twin pinpricks of light, smoke floating upwards in twin trains from its nose. _A dragon._ There used to be old tapestries of them in Castle Candy. 

Saccharina looks up. Her eyes widen. 

For a long moment, Jet Rocks and her half-sister stare at one another. 

Jet carefully places the baby dragon in Saccharina's hands. And a second later, her arms are wrapped around Saccharina, and Saccharina, shaking, is hugging Jet right back. Outside, there is a clean swishing sound, and Jet can feel the strike as Ruby pierces the Sugar Plum Fairy's heart, the Twizzling Blade molded perfectly to her fingers like it was born to be there. 

"You and Ruby take care of each other, all right?" Jet whispers, and her throat is hoarse, and her sisters are _alive_ , and the battle is drawing to a close. "Neither of you are psychic like I am, so you've got to communicate better. You're both good people. Don't let your brilliant brains get in the way."

 _Oh_ , if only she hadn't been murdered.

There are so many adventures that the three of them could have had. 

**Author's Note:**

> (did I borrow the idea of Jet being scared of the dark from your fic "the king is dead, long live the king" about Jet’s death? why, yes! yes, I did! @everyone reading this, please go read all of their amazing work _right_ the heck now; you won't regret it.)
> 
> thank you so much for all of your hard work in setting up and organizing this fic exchange! it has been one of the most fun parts of this month, and given me so much to look forward to and enjoy. you're the absolute best.


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